


Ocean of Noise

by Alias (anafabula)



Series: the one where Martin puts his crush in a jar and pokes holes in the lid [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: But it’s going to be okay, Canon-Typical Forsaken Content, Emotional Manipulation, For a certain value of ‘okay’, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Isolation, Lonely!Martin, M/M, Planning for the apocalypse, Screenplay/Script Format, Season 4 AU, Solitary Confinement, Stockholm Syndrome, Strongly-implied cuddling, Update: I have been informed the value is Sad, please feed your Archivists people this is unsustainable, ‘Martin do not put your crush in a jar and poke holes in the lid’
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-11-27 19:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20954018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anafabula/pseuds/Alias
Summary: After the dust has settled, Martin brings Jon to the Lonely and leaves him there.He visits, when he can.





	Ocean of Noise

**Author's Note:**

> I did intend to write [this prompt](https://rusty-kink.dreamwidth.org/1380.html?thread=89444#cmt89444) more to the letter. 
> 
> ([title](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pr1fXJtmGsI))

[CLICK]

[FOOTSTEPS]

**ARCHIVIST**

Martin, what are—I mean, I’m—I’m grateful to see you, but you haven’t explained… what you need to show me.

**MARTIN**

I know, I—sorry. Please trust me, all right?

**ARCHIVIST**

I do trust you! I’d think you’d have noticed that by now! But if there’s something you think I should know, that’s worth coming out of wherever, however it is you’re still hiding with Lukas, and it’s in the Institute itself, shouldn’t I already _know?_

[STATIC BEGINNING TO BUZZ]

**MARTIN**

I… [With difficulty] I suppose you would.

**ARCHIVIST**

What’s that supposed to m—  
  
[THE STATIC RISES TO A SCREAM]

**ARCHIVIST**

Martin?

Martin!

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

[LONG SILENCE]

[THE ARCHIVIST SIGHS IN RESIGNATION]

**ARCHIVIST**

I know, I _know_ in retrospect that I should have—I should have seen this coming. Not this, in particular, not— [Still sounding incredulous about it] Martin bringing me into whatever this aspect of the Lonely really is and then leaving me here? Leaving me here to… not die, I presume, which, I suppose that’s… nice, but what am I going to _do_ with—

It has been too easy to survive all of this. Inclusive of most everyone I still know trying to— finally trying to kill me. It was still too easy. And I… wanted to believe anyway. I, I thought, the costs seemed high enough at this point, I wanted to believe I could get out of something for once and—

[Tamping down panic] Of course it seemed too good to be true that he’d be okay. It seemed too good to be true that he came back at _all_. Which has hardly escaped me, but, putting aside the probability of wishful thinking on my part, this is… definitely the Lonely, it’s fairly unambiguous what would have had to put me here, they don’t seem disposed to theft of identity, and— No. It was him. This is… him.

I seem to be… alone. Obviously. But I… I can… I’m going to go look around. There could still be… I can—I can do that. Yes.

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

**ARCHIVIST**

I’ve been… I have searched the— Almost the entire building. With the exception of… There is a point in the tunnels at which they seem to… to reject me. I can’t… I tried. Enough times to be certain that there is nothing for me there. And I am certain that there is no one here.

I thought, when I… got back, with, with Lukas here, I thought things were quiet. I found it disturbing. But I have… never known the Institute completely empty. And I do now.

It still took some time before I could bring myself to… leave.

I know how the Lonely works, obviously. But I still had to check. Just in case. Maybe I thought that Martin would overlook something. He, he can’t be particularly experienced at this yet, right?

[ROLLING TAPE FAILS TO PROVIDE ANSWERS]

It was—it is remarkably horrible. Perhaps all the more so because I’d seen no middle ground at all. Here is worse than it was, but outside is just—absolute. It wasn’t wrong, and now it is, and there is nothing fundamentally impossible about it, it’s not like the Spiral but they make me equally _sick_ and I— I— I _know_ what it should look like on the street outside, I know honestly better than I should just how many human lives there are at any time to—

I am sure of my situation, now, and I do not think I will try to confirm it again.

There’s no… There is no sun, outside. I suppose we have that in common, in a way.

It took some time to notice, to… to care enough to look up, because there is perfectly enough light to see that you’re not missing anything, and it’s not… the sort of cloud cover that wipes out shadows is hardly unnatural. It takes time to bother to notice the empty sky. My attention was elsewhere, for quite some time.

There’s no life which moves and could see me, and no sun, and… and when I walked for long enough I… I should have kept going, I’m _sure_ I should have kept going, and now I cannot say whether the sense of dissipation was literal or not. Whether there’s a level of distance at which the fog blankets the ground and past it the point where visibility drops to nothing and past _that_ the… the… Does the ground vanish, or was that me? And after that…

I couldn’t feel much of my body by that point, which didn’t exactly help, nor do I know how much was cold and how much was panic and how much was something much less possible elsewhere and accordingly outside of me. I am… not entirely sure, for part of the path, how I made it home.

And I thought about— bones, about how perfectly certain I can be that people had died around me. I could feel them in my fingertips when I tried and then when I didn’t, and I could— I stopped myself from— _barely_, but I don’t think I can afford to Know, when I… am aware of the costs and… don’t know that I could pay.

I am… not surrounded by the dead by any means. But there are absences I am aware of. People who were here, until they were not, and had no… reprieve, whatsoever, from the one, before the other.

I’m sure there must also be living victims about, but I can’t feel them at all. Not—not even the ones I _know_ were taken from the Institute itself, who it would be— terribly soon, given what precedent I’m aware of, to find dead; I feel _nothing_. And I’ve tried, or rather I couldn’t help trying, to imagine how that works, if we’d somehow share this space unaware of one another the same way I’d presume I’m unaware of anyone else who must remain in the real— in the— who is still here. I may have memories, but I hardly have access to explanation. There’s only so much trying to think my way to it can— I don’t get to Know that either, apparently. Perhaps it’s too close to… ameliorating the experience, even slightly, for me to not have to _wonder_. But…

That feels like the worst of all possible worlds, to me—to, to have, to have all those lives in parallel, trapped in the exact same way, with no awareness of one another, with not the slightest way to communicate or be useful or be _anything_—so I would presume it is how this works.

[HE BREATHES]

I am most accustomed to silence in the Archives, and they are— they are at least… mine. I don’t think I’ll be leaving again.

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

**ARCHIVIST**

I should have realized that _something_ would happen as soon as I was the greatest threat in the room. I should have known the best-case outcome was still— I—

I could have been prepared. Done something. Anything. I was so _stupid_.

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

[BURST OF SHARP HIGH STATIC]

**MARTIN**

[Hesitant] Hi.

[THE ARCHIVIST MAKES A STARTLED NOISE, THEN SEVERAL FLUSTERED ONES, THEN SILENCE]

**ARCHIVIST**

[Possibly working to get his dignity back via anger] Oh. Well.

Hello, Martin.

**MARTIN**

I—

**ARCHIVIST**

What—

**MARTIN**

I need you to not ask me what happened.

**ARCHIVIST**

Or you’ll, what, leave me here forever?

**MARTIN**

Or I’ll leave, yeah. It’s not… nothing is forever, you know, by definition. But I can go.

I don’t want to.

**ARCHIVIST**

I don’t want to _be_ here, so I suppose we’re— Christ. No, I, I shouldn’t… I… You’re… not letting me out, then.

**MARTIN**

Not, um, now, no.

**ARCHIVIST**

[Both sour and curious about it] You look… better.

**MARTIN**

[Stalling, reluctant] I haven’t had any more near-death experiences you didn’t hear about. I mean, well, knock on wood. But it’s… nice. By comparison. It kind of feels like I can breathe. So maybe that’s it.

**ARCHIVIST**

Is Basira…

**MARTIN**

I mean… She’s blaming you for how things turned out with Daisy.

**ARCHIVIST**

Yes, well, I’m sure. Is she at least _okay_.

**MARTIN**

I don’t know. I don’t— [More viciously than apparently intended] I can’t _find_ her, so odds are she’s more okay than she would be otherwise, but that’s all I know.

**ARCHIVIST**

…Right.

I suppose you’re going to tell me this is for my own p—

**MARTIN**

It’s not _just_ for your protection, but, honestly, yes?

**ARCHIVIST**

Why don’t I get to be the one to decide that, Martin.

**MARTIN**

You’re not very good at it!

[SILENCE]

**ARCHIVIST**

What are you trying to achieve here?

**MARTIN**

I wanted to check in. See that you were adjusting okay. I, I’m sure it’s been a hard few days—

**ARCHIVIST**

[Disbelieving] _Days?_

**MARTIN**

Oh, you’ll… Time can be sort of… you’ll get used to it after a bit.

**ARCHIVIST**

I don’t want to— I don’t want to. I can’t, I can’t— How long do you intend to leave me here. When are— When were you going to let me— If, if you could just choose, I mean, when— How much longer.

**MARTIN**

I don’t know?

**ARCHIVIST**

You don’t know as in… days, you don’t know as in, as in weeks, you—

**MARTIN**

I… ‘I don’t know’ as in ‘No.’

I came to see how you were doing. But I’m… not going to…

**ARCHIVIST**

You’re not intending to let me go.

**MARTIN**

Yeah.

**ARCHIVIST**

[Stopping himself from saying something else] Please don’t do this. Please. Just… Tell me what I have to do to change your mind.

**MARTIN**

It’s not like that. This isn’t that sort of argument, Jon.

**ARCHIVIST**

What sort of argument _is_ it.

**MARTIN**

One that really doesn’t have to be, and that I wish we weren’t having, honestly!

**ARCHIVIST**

I— _No_, Martin, this isn’t—

**MARTIN**

No, no, I’m, I’m sorry. That was… I… I don’t want to hurt you.

[Over the Archivist’s objections] I’ll be back in a bit. But I, I need to leave. Now.

**ARCHIVIST**

Martin, for god’s _sake_, how can you not see that th—

[BURST OF DISTORTION]

[STATIC RECEDES TO NORMAL]

**ARCHIVIST**

[Some incoherent vocalization as he attempts to speak] W-well. Apparently not.

That— That certainly is— indicative. I… I just…

[Quietly, trying to convince himself] He’s coming back. Which means… which… [Abruptly sharp] Which means absolutely nothing that I can confirm. But it is… abnormal. For them. [Losing composure again] So maybe that’s— maybe— Maybe he—

I should… do something other than wait. I… God, I shouldn’t be intending to _wait_ for him at all, I— for all I know he’s lying, I should… [Struggling slightly] I…

[PAINFUL-SOUNDING SIGH]

I don’t want to hate him.

[TAPE ROLLING]

[SOUNDS OF THE ARCHIVIST TURNING THE RECORDER OFF HIMSELF]

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

**ARCHIVIST**

I am, on some level, honestly surprised that… [Resigned amusement] I’m not surprised that Martin thinks I needed protecting, after what happened with Basira and… [Only resignation] After what happened. He is, ah, objectively right, there, on more levels than I am really comfortable with. And there are… many reasons for him not to have taken her side outright, at this point, though the vehemence was…

I’m not surprised he thought I needed protection. Independent of my feelings on the form that acting on the thought has _taken_, I’m surprised he still thinks I deserve it. Except…

No such thing as human contact whatsoever could—I could argue it unmoors me further, but frankly this is barely a downgrade in quantity from what would have been me—losing everyone left anyway, the difference is just… in the fact that I don’t get to choose anything about it. It has not escaped me that I am the only person using this space, alongside being alone in it.

I have never had much of a life outside of work, long before living in my workplace or before my life literally depended on it. Much of what is gone now I’d lost anyway. Which isn’t to say that doesn’t… ache, still, the, the usual way, it’s just that I don’t have anyone…

I wasn’t exactly leaving the building that much, for the obvious reasons, but I thought about it more nights than not, so even that train of thought is one I already know well from being trapped inside, locking myself down here because I’m thinking about setting out and—

I am not good at being a person among people. I have never _been_. Sometimes I thought the job was making me better at it, which I suppose was… overoptimistic. Not untrue, in a way, in that it’s easier and _(sigh)_ I suppose less superficially painful, it’s giving myself too much—the wrong sort of credit to call it more than that, the extent to which I can be kind is to make it worse, but, just—god, I think I do like talking to people now?

That may be pushing it a bit far. I… hadn’t really taken stock on the matter before, it wasn’t exactly pressingly urgent introspection. But I’m obviously going to be wildly biased _now_.

Certainly it has made me want to interact with people as opposed to wanting to have done so, which, well, _that’s_ new, statistically speaking. It was one of the only noticeable changes in my mindset once I’d woken up, the feeling that I had finally noticed those around me, it’s what comes to mind more than anything when I make the mistake of making myself sick wandering around out there waiting for the streets to make any sort of human sense, being able to glance at stranger upon stranger and know that each of them somehow could matter. That there’s something inside… everyone.

Maybe not enough to be worth the time on any given day, just potential and the kind of thing they’ll tell themselves should’ve been a warning in the aftermath, but every person _could_ have a story. And anyone could be seen.

But I… that’s not a way anyone could so much as want me to be thinking of them, is it? Practically by definition.

This is the most efficient way I could imagine to keep me from hurting anyone else. Is just keeping me from talking to them. And I’ve certainly—proved enough times that I can’t be trusted to tell the difference between the two acts, at this point. So I… Even _here_, for me to want to see a single human being is still, first and foremost, a predatory sign.

I suppose that must be the other purpose Martin has in mind.

[TAPE ROLLS]

If that’s what he’s doing then I, I should—let him. I should want to. I should want this.

[CLICK]

* * *

[TAPE STRAINING SLIGHTLY MID-ARGUMENT]

**ARCHIVIST**

[Incensed] Well, maybe—if that’s ‘_not the answer_’, then—maybe I’ll just ask you—

[QUIET DISSONANT STATIC]

**MARTIN**

No, Jon.

[THE ARCHIVIST STRUGGLES TO SPEAK]

**MARTIN**

You won’t. I’m sorry.

[STATIC SLOWLY FADES]

[THE ARCHIVIST BREATHES]

**ARCHIVIST**

So that’s… that’s how it… [Hollow] So that’s how it is.

I see.

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

**ARCHIVIST**

I do still dream. More than… more than the… It’s not that it’s gotten any _better_ than I was when Martin—dropped me in here, but I’m not getting _worse_ like I used to. This is not, right now, the worst I’ve ever felt. It is… far from my best, but on just a functional level, I am… decidedly… _fine_. And my bones don’t ache, and that doesn’t edge toward brittle empty gnawing every minute. The flat, calm certainty of this existence, all else being equal, extends in all directions, when I think about the future. And then I— and then I do generally, er, start panicking, but I don’t… I still don’t feel like I’m… fading again, at least. Trapped, yes. But not that.

So. Right. Dreams.

It is, I suppose, a little like seeing old friends, at this point. Certainly the closest I’m likely to get any time soon. Or, ah, ever. But I know… every contour of meaning in them by now, in the— handful, honestly? Feels like that. The few handfuls of statements I’ve taken myself. Not in the sense that I could usefully describe them, not, not in any way that’s actually meaningful, but just… [Frustrated sound] I am not _good_ at this side of things. And it’s not going to help me to tell myself about my dreams. What I mean is…

I, I didn’t dream, I didn’t see them at all, while the Stranger had me, and it was… like… dying. Or I did dream while I was literally dying, so I suppose it was what being dead would be. Certainly felt like it. Not that I much liked—sleep—back then, but it’s not like I liked being alive at the time either, so really the comparison stands. And I… suppose it’s good to be past that. For all the good it’s doing me at the moment.

So I have that reminder, the demonstration of what—what I am. And… [Sighing] I don’t think it’s actually surprising that nothing about my current situation is fundamentally at odds with the, er. With my… [Uncomfortable] With my god. I don’t _want_ to be al— I mean, cut off and trapped and in pain, I don’t want that, but the knowledge that I’m not is… also knowledge that… It’s not going to help. Insofar as It ever would. There’s no… conflict there that makes it unsustainable for anything larger than me.

And, I mean, I _am_ still, by definition, alone and trapped here, I am… excruciatingly aware of being trapped…

I think about, after I wake up, sometimes, I think about trying to talk to Georgie. She’s right… there, and… uniquely disposed toward pity, even now. But that’s not how this works. That’s not how I work. It never occurs to me at night but even beyond that, I couldn’t… I couldn’t. There is _change_, over time, I suppose, but only in terms of what th— of what my— of what they bring with them. The, the memory’s hardly going to change, it’s done, the gift is in the way it’s always new _to_ them, the parts that come alive with my attention even though, because, all the contours of what’s happened are known by everyone involved. It’s—well—unparalleled, it’s not something that happens in the— the real world, and it’s… not going to help me with anything else. But it’s… good. I’d rather dream than not, I’d rather—it doesn’t _matter_ to me that I can’t touch them or speak to them, that I can’t change anything, while I’m there. As long as I’m… as long as I’m watching, it’s more than enough.

And then I wake up.

This is… not the sort of thing that I should let him know I think. It isn’t the sort of thing I should let _anyone_ hear. I suppose it is at least unlikely for that to happen by accident, now.

At any rate. That’s what I have for… escape. It’s preferable to the alternative—for me, anyway—but it is also, every single night, a confirmation that nothing I— nothing I—am—conflicts with my being left here. For…

Well, it’s not like I’m going to die of old age. [Dry] At this rate I find myself wondering if one of my victims might.

[HE SWALLOWS AUDIBLY]

I sh-shouldn’t be letting myself think like this. Not… not while I’m capable of… controlling otherwise. I’ve made my point. I might as well— I should move on.

[CLICK]

* * *

**ARCHIVIST**

Martin has been keeping his promise, at least. It’s not often enough that I can ever fully trust that he’ll come back again, although admittedly I don’t know if there is such a thing as often enough for me to… not doubt.

I don’t know if he’s doing that on purpose. I don’t know how much such a thing as harm mitigation is even possible for this situation, let alone for what he is. I’m— not as sure as I want to be that I know what he _is_.

I don’t know how much he— knows how much it eats at me, constantly, the extent to which I look up at random noises and _(hah)_ tape recorders, if it’s clear for him… in the back of his mind, somehow, or only when he sees me, or not at all. I don’t know how much he’s equipped to understand the _damage_ that does any more, so I can’t begin to imagine how intentional it is.

But I do not think of him as a liar.

[SILENCE]

Though I really do wonder what he’s doing out there.

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

**ARCHIVIST**

I’m, I’m hardly going to say this to his face, but it did occur to me that—well—there’s more things I’m avoiding speaking to Martin about than _not_, certainly more things I actually want to know, but I’m _really_ not going to bring up…

I don’t know if he’s trying to spare me or quarantine me. But it seems almost like he, like he thinks of me as… not even a potential victim, or, well, I suppose I—literally am one—but not… Like we have approximately one person’s worth of humanity to share and he’s trying not to break it to me that— like he’s trying to leave that to me and hoping I won’t notice what it says about him. That’s the shape, overall, of… the sort of thing he flat-out hides.

I’m sure I’ve done worse, but it’s a bit… More than a bit absurd, at this point.

[Humor draining out of his voice] And I wish I could call him on it. But it’s… All else aside, I… I don’t… I still don’t exactly have the right to try to force him to accept what I am, do I. Not when… It’s not like I want to be…

No. I wanted this. I— I chose this. More or less knowingly, by the end. And he’s… obviously made his own choices, and is trying to, to spare me from them, in whatever ways he can. Which aren’t many. That’s… not exactly something we… do. But however it is he thinks of me now, I suppose he’s made his intentions clear enough.

[CLICK]

* * *

[SOUNDS OF TAPE THAT’S CONTINUED ROLLING PAST THE POINT IT SHOULD BE]

**ARCHIVIST**

…Ah. Yes. Come to think…

Supplemental, I suppose.

I don’t know if anyone’s hearing… I don’t know why anyone _would_ hear some of these tapes. I’m still… labelling and sorting things appropriately, most of the time, I’d rather do so than not, it’s, it’s comforting, to be honest? But that does mean that even if someone were looking to file the recordings that should be public it would be… desperately easy to weed out statements alone and let my own words just…

[ACCIDENTALLY DEMONSTRATIVE SILENCE]

[SOMETHING LIKE A SIGH]

Most days I… [Bitter humor] can assume that there are days, at least, and… it is the kind of stasis, I think, that could be mistaken for stability. I am _actually_ getting by, like this, not… not the way I tried to pretend, before. Some statements are more stale than others; it balances out. _Many_ are better-organized at this point, but that by no means translates to any renewed sense of choice in what I read.

I haven’t… left again. I don’t want to. I think I may wish I wanted to, but that’s an awful lot of distance between me and the actual desire, here.

What I’m less content with, or willing to _tolerate_, is— is continuing to— to pretend that the infinitesimal amount of news Martin’s willing to part with could ever be enough. I have been—well—obviously he has the upper hand, and I… know exactly what he still has to threaten me with. And I’m not unappreciative of the continued lack of, well, world-ending catastrophe. But I’m _sick_ of this. He needs to tell me something. It’s not like anything will change, so I— I— I can try to be tactful but I’m done taking no for an answer. Especially given how fundamentally limited I’ve accepted being in terms of what can be in _question_. He has to understand that. I’m done.

[CLICK]

* * *

**ARCHIVIST**

[Carefully] So Lukas is still… here. Even though…

**MARTIN**

Yeah? I mean, I’m around so he’s kind of in and out since Elias got b— [Noticing something] Oh.

**ARCHIVIST**

[Flat] He knows I’m here.

**MARTIN**

I think that’s kind of a given—

**ARCHIVIST**

He knows I’m here and is… actively allowing it.

**MARTIN**

Did you not… Did you not realize?

**ARCHIVIST**

…Not… really, no.

**MARTIN**

I’m sorry.

**ARCHIVIST**

I suppose it’s not exactly different from any other time I’ve been— ugh.

**MARTIN**

No, I mean, it’s… It makes sense that… If you were still thinking of, you know. [Guiltily amused] Thinking of me as some kind of rogue operator? I can see it. Just…

**ARCHIVIST**

I mean, I, I know… what… I know what you are, I just… hadn’t assumed it had anything to do with… [Pulling himself together] I’d assumed my imprisonment here was a Lonely thing, not that you were operating alone. I didn’t… think it had anything to do with me as in…

**MARTIN**

Oh. [Thinking it through] _Oh._

The difference between knowing no one _has_ come for you and knowing no one _will_ is— it’s huge when you’re inside it, I, I get it. Should I, er, actually… would you rather I give you a minute?

**ARCHIVIST**

[Acid] Does it matter how I answer that question, Martin?

**MARTIN**

I mean, it matters, it doesn’t have to make a _difference_ for it to matter—

**ARCHIVIST**

You know what I mean.

**MARTIN**

I don’t think my being here right now is going to help you.

**ARCHIVIST**

And presumably your leaving is liable to—

**MARTIN**

It’s a binary state, Jon, either I’m here or I’m not, if you make it about my god we’ll end up arguing in circles forever and whether or not we have the time there’s not actually any point!

[BRIEF SILENCE]

I… I do miss you. All the time.

**ARCHIVIST**

[Open hostility] I’m sure you do.

**MARTIN**

I’m… [Conceding] Yeah. I’ll, er, I’ll see you— I _will_ see you, okay, but I think I should, er, I think I should give you some time to think for now.

**ARCHIVIST**

[Shouting, as if he is already distant] I think I have enough of—

[BRIEF SHRIEKY STATIC, BECAUSE HE WAS]

[SOFT BUZZ]

**ARCHIVIST**

I don’t know why I bother.

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

**ARCHIVIST**

I tried— I tried calling for Helen.

[STRANGLED LAUGH] I thought maybe— maybe— but no. I am… sure that madness can be lonely; but that doesn’t appear to be enough.

[TAPE ROLLING]

I… I’m sure it would have come, otherwise. If— If it could. I’m almost sure.

I think.

[THE ARCHIVIST SIGHS]

[CLICK]

* * *

**ARCHIVIST**

Martin, why are you _doing_ this? How did he c— What makes you think this is worthwhile?

**MARTIN**

It’s the only way. The one way I can make sure everyone I care about will— be okay. And that’s all I ever wanted. I just… needed to define my terms.

**ARCHIVIST**

Your… terms?

**MARTIN**

Yeah. To, er. I needed to admit what I— who exactly I wanted to save, you know? Instead of just… pretending I _could_ mean everybody.

**ARCHIVIST**

And…

Who does that leave, then?

**MARTIN**

You, mostly. If… if I’m honest. Then you.

[SILENCE]

**ARCHIVIST**

[Voice a bit too choked to be properly accusatory] You’ve got an odd way of sh—

**MARTIN**

I have to go.

**ARCHIVIST**

No you _d—_

[RUSH OF STATIC]

[LONG SILENCE]

**ARCHIVIST**

God damn it.

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

**ARCHIVIST**

It feels like somebody’s idea of a joke. Or else déjà vu. That I… still have to go through the same process as ever, wondering if he’s being blackmailed or threatened or controlled, just, just going through every possible way this could be against his will, but…

There is, of course, the possibility that— that Lukas is lying to him, still. I’m hardly inclined to _trust_… but that feels like wishful thinking at this point. I, I should be past that. By now. He certainly appears to have kept his word in every other relevant respect. And the fact of the matter is that Martin chose to _do_ this, is choosing. That he wants… He wants to be doing this. He wants to do this to me.

[A LONG PAUSE, AND A SIGH]

[FLICKING PAPERS]

It’s not that we have a shortage of statements pertaining to the Lonely, ones… ones that could have… hints as to how to escape it. In fact there’s quite a lot; I shouldn’t be surprised. [SHARP LAUGH] They’re in much better order now.

For people… actively taken _into_ their world, this… dimension, or whatever they want to call i— [Sudden confidence, but annoyed about it] fine, their domain, I’ve seen two main patterns of exit. Other than death, that is.

I can’t _help_ asking, still, but it seems fairly decided that Martin won’t… let me go, not any time soon. Not willingly. I would… respect that… the more often he sees me, the less likely it becomes that he would change his mind.

I’d still rather see him than… the alternative.

…I imagine he knows that already. Especially when it’s been this long an interval, I imagine he _knows_. If only the same way I know…

[ANOTHER PAUSE, RIVALING THE FIRST ONE]

And some of our witnesses _have_ escaped against the will of— of the m— of whatever brought them into Forsaken and left them there. It’s not that it can’t be done. It’s not even unclear _how_ they did it. In fact it’s markedly consistent.

[Slight derision] And almost… sweet.

[HE SIGHS AGAIN]

And completely off-limits to me. They… consistently report having… somehow used their connection to their, their feelings toward a particular person or persons in order to orientate themselves to the outside world.

It’s not that I don’t have any relationships that might work, is the thing. My… my master is _too_ constant to be of any help, but there _is_ someone who comes to mind immediately.

He’s the one who put me here.

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

**ARCHIVIST**

Right. Been procrastinating long enough. [To himself, somewhat scolding] Still better than nothing. Even if it… Ugh. This is— legitimately— I want to read this, I, I do, actually, it’s just knowing I’m trapped _with_—

[HE SIGHS]

[Noticing the tape recorder] Oh, good. Right. All right. Thank you.

St—

[BURST OF DISTORTION]

[SILENCE]

**MARTIN**

[Awkward] Um… Sorry, is this a bad time?

**ARCHIVIST**

I, I was…

[INDICATIVE PAPER-WAVING NOISES]

**MARTIN**

[Even more awkward] Should I let you… you know…

**ARCHIVIST**

Er— Actually— Would you mind—

**MARTIN**

[Overlapping] I’m not going t— You need to—to _eat_, Jon, I’m not going to l—

**ARCHIVIST**

I’d like if you watched?

**MARTIN**

What?

**ARCHIVIST**

Or, er, listened, I guess, strictly speaking, really.

**MARTIN**

If I— Oh! [Fumbling] Sure, I’m, I’d be happy to.

**ARCHIVIST**

All right, then.

* * *

**ARCHIVIST**

Statement ends.

[BREATHES UNEVENLY]

That’s… better. That’s better. The rest I can… just… It’s easy to do the followup in, in multiple sittings when I’m working alone anyway, so I— So that’s fine.

Thank you.

**MARTIN**

No, I’m just… I’m glad you’re okay. I guess I didn’t realize how much you’d need—

**ARCHIVIST**

_Anything._

**MARTIN**

—well, more than… It’s just there’s a lot of statements that haven’t been read. Or even organized at all to be…

**ARCHIVIST**

I’ve, I’ve made a lot of progress there, actually.

**MARTIN**

I just—I thought—I thought the backlog would tide you over for a while.

**ARCHIVIST**

[Growing irritated] Yes, well, I don’t know. I don’t get to choose what I’ll be looking for at any given time. Not yet. Still. Which is _why_ I’d do more good if I could leave—

**MARTIN**

You can’t, Jon.

**ARCHIVIST**

[Voice cracking] What if I. I just—not a conversation, or anything like that, but I. I, er, couldn’t I take someone’s statement? Just—just that, that’s not— God, there must still be—

**MARTIN**

That’s still too much to ask for now. It just is. I’m sorry.

It won’t be forever, though.

**ARCHIVIST**

Then when? What are you waiting for?

[MARTIN BREATHES SHARPLY]

**MARTIN**

[Uncomfortable] That’s not… the right question to ask. Not really. There’s not a date or anything, it… I don’t know how I’d explain it?

[STATIC BUILDING FROM A MURMUR]

**ARCHIVIST**

But I could.

Martin—

**MARTIN**

No.

[SHARP SQUEAL OF STATIC]

[SOUNDS OF TAPE ROLLING]

[THE ARCHIVIST SIGHS, WITH NO SMALL AMOUNT OF DESPAIR]

**ARCHIVIST**

[Pained] That…

You know, that actually could have gone worse.

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

**ARCHIVIST**

[Noticing the recorder fairly quickly this time] Oh. I don’t suppose this means…

[SILENCE]

[HE SIGHS]

Suppose I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. Insofar as that’s the appropriate phrasing, given…

Right.

He’s been… gone. I probably could have—I definitely could have handled that experiment with more subtlety. I also _should_ have handled it with more subtlety. But it did help, some. Just a bit. Little enough that this may just be personal preference, but the difference is presumably illusory, there, for me, all things considered. And that’s also… indicative. Of what I’m actually working with, here.

I’ve passed the point of having had an absurd amount of time to think and hardly seem likely to run out of it. Even if I can’t grasp the hours of an individual day for myself, even if I couldn’t still read a damn calendar, I— I could certainly tell _that_ much. And at this level of repetition it may be hard to break out of cycles but it’s even harder to keep not noticing that—

[THE ARCHIVIST SIGHS AGAIN. SOUNDS SOMEWHAT ANNOYED TO BE REPEATING HIMSELF]

The people who I miss, I miss them like they’re dead. Even the ones who… aren’t, I mean. Everything I could want is more— [RUSTLING NOISES, POSSIBLY LIKE HE’S RUBBING AT HIS FACE] Anything I would want from them is already gone. It’s not like… it’s not like Martin letting me go would bring anyone else back in his pl— would bring anyone else back. And we… know, at this point, what happens when I talk to people, it’s not like I could have any—it’s not like those relationships are—I am long past the point of new friends or, or, or such a thing as anchors, at all. I know. I don’t _have_… It’s just the stasis on my part that is unnecessary, that, that should be intolerable. That grows harder to ignore the longer I tolerate it. [Edge of bitter laughter] Because I know what happens when I talk to people.

I know this is— not just pointless, it’s _childish_, but I keep thinking— I mean— it’s not… fair. Just in that… [Sullen] You don’t hear about this sort of thing happening to other avatars, you think it’s monster or victim and that’s it, and then there’s me. Apparently. Someone else would— some_thing_ else would intervene, or, or have a way to fight back, or…  
  
Or die outright, I suppose. But not me.  
  
[SILENCE]  
  
The self-pity’s getting a bit old, I just hardly have any— _novel_ emotion to replace it with. Just keep thinking in circles about the fact that my god wants this, or— doesn’t not want it, if It can be said _to_ want… That this does nothing to me as the Archivist that I could stop. But it’s still… I…  
  
[Quiet, strained] I need more than this. It isn’t enough. I—

I accept that. But how do I make him see it, though? It shouldn’t be— I should be able to— we’re…

[Begins muttering to himself, more or less distracted from despair by some semblance of a research topic] We’re supposed to be allied, more or less, and— damn me but I _can_ see _why_, the lack of meaningful connections inherent in esoteric knowledge, it’s right there, except then why did Gertrude stop their ritual, when it could, could have brought both—  
  
[SUDDEN PAINED SOUNDS]

[STUTTERING, NO WORDS]  
  
Right. Right, th-that’s too close to… Knowing, apparently. Have to… [Groaning a bit] Have to stick with what I already know. [Unsteady] I know… she was… still trying to preserve this world regardless, regardless of from who. I _know_ that.

I wonder what that’s like.  
  
[CONSIDERING PAUSE]  
  
Evidently unsustainable. And it was… harder for her to do, t-to go against something that came that close to us, I did pick _that_ up before… [Muttering] Feels like a red-hot vise around my skull but all burning without warmth and I just can’t… But that’s what I have. She, she wouldn’t have admitted it, and it was still easier than even _thinking_ about the Watcher’s Crown turned out to be, but…  
  
God damn it, if we’re that similar there must be something I— there must be something else. There must be.  
  
I have to ask him. I can’t do this blind. I need to know exactly what I’m supposed to be dealing with.  
  
[Close to a whisper] I just need to know. That’s all.  
  
[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

[CUT-OFF INDISTINCT SOUND, EVIDENTLY MID-CONVERSATION]

**ARCHIVIST**

[Almost growling] I still want _your_ statement. I want t—

**MARTIN**

I— Jon, I know. I _know_. But I can’t give you that now. I can’t. [Softly, placating] Not yet.

[SILENCE]

**ARCHIVIST**

[Quickly, over static] What are you getting out of this?

[MARTIN BREATHES IN SHARPLY]

**MARTIN**

Originally I wanted to keep you safe. I still do. I am, and I’m _proud_ of that. But for a while I thought I meant more, that I cared about _everyone_, that I _could_ care about everyone, and maybe realizing just how wrong that was opened the cracks for my god to come in.

I know you’ll never understand that, It, not— not really, and that’s fine; that’s… fine. You have yours and you _had_ it before I figured any of this out for my own sake, we were always going to miss each other there, I was at peace with _that_ before I knew where it would lead me; knowing that real comprehension was off the table… helped. Helped me work with what was left. With the nothing it could leave behind — with knowing the belief was hardly even there to begin with.

Letting other people go was easy, honestly. To the point that feels like cheating, getting away with something. Like it shouldn’t be so simple, there should still be a catch, some way it’s avoidable and I’m, I’m the weak link here, or else that it’s _just_ me and everyone else— but no. I _know_ better. What, what other people ignore because they don’t want it or else think they’re different but— at bare minimum _everyone_ dies alone. No one’s too good or too special or worth more so it’s just—just about what we choose to do ourselves.

[TAPE ROLLING]

**MARTIN**

I really wish you hadn’t done that? I didn’t want to…

**ARCHIVIST**

[Slightly hoarse, like he was listening with his mouth open, and entirely unsympathetic] I’m aware.

[PAUSE]

**ARCHIVIST**

You’re going to end the world.

**MARTIN**

Isn’t everyone?

[SILENCE]

I’m just saying, Jon, this isn’t— this holding pattern _isn’t_. Stopping Extinction wasn’t going to be _enough_. It was necessary and, and it’s worth it, but that’s one ritual. They’re still out there. And so is everybody else. Until—until they’re, until _we_ aren’t anymore. I don’t want to live like that forever. I don’t think you do either, not— you were just using it to look for an excuse to get yourself killed. I want to _stop_ them. All of them. Forever.

[TAPE ROLLING]

**ARCHIVIST**

How long.

**MARTIN**

What?

**ARCHIVIST**

You want to do— whatever the Lonely considers their ritual. And you think it can make enough of a difference. But Gertrude _stopped_ you — them — before she died, and less than five years is hardly enough for another try, it’s not like you’re the Filth or something that haphazard, so if you’re expecting this within your lifetime I want to know how _long._

**MARTIN**

[Evasive] It’s not exact, it’s not like I have a, you know, some kind of… astrological calendar but for powers of dread beyond human comprehension—

**ARCHIVIST**

[Flat] Martin.

**MARTIN**

I don’t have a feel for that kind of thing yet, not really. I wouldn’t even if we ever got to _be_ certain of what we’re doing—

**ARCHIVIST**

[Sharp, properly distorted] Tell me when you’re going to try again. However much you know. Now.

[MARTIN SIGHS, SLIGHTLY PAINED]

**MARTIN**

Normally it _would_ be, I don’t know, hundreds of years before we had… enough of ourselves to use, sort of, it’s not like this is something I have words for, just there’s only so much more than the day-to-day that even all of humanity together has to spare. [Not quite bitter] Especially thinking of it _as_ being together.

But… [More optimistic] I’ve been talking to Peter and he thinks we have a shot— just— expecting this to work on the order of centuries depends on humanity, you know, if, if they even make it that long? And he thinks, hopes, that with something like you feeding our god _too_, that y-you’ll make all the difference and we’ll have a real chance again within a few decades.

It’s awfully early to tell, yeah, but at this rate, if you can keep this up, then…

[SILENCE]

**MARTIN**

[Realizing] Oh, no.

I’m— Jon, I’m so sorry—

**ARCHIVIST**

[Close to emotionless] Do you believe him?

**MARTIN**

I hope he’s right. I want him to be right. I just don’t know enough for myself yet to be sure… But… Yeah. I do. It’s not like he’s lied to me before, anyway, even before we were on the same side, so I don’t know why he’d st— Stop it.

**ARCHIVIST**

What are you sorry for, then?

**MARTIN**

I really didn’t want you to find out this way. I wanted— I mean— I wasn’t sure when or how to tell you and it was so important that you understand—

**ARCHIVIST**

What exactly don’t I _understand_.

**MARTIN**

That this is _better_! I can— I can keep you safe for now until the rest of the fallout is… dealt with, and—

**ARCHIVIST**

And leave me here to—

**MARTIN**

[Interrupting] I don’t want to hurt you and I won’t— I’m not going to let you die, I’m _not_. It’s just a balancing act. I’m _trying._

**ARCHIVIST**

Because you think you can use me to end the world.

**MARTIN**

I mean— I guess? Yes. That’s not at all how I’d phrase it but… I guess so. It’s just… We failed, and then so did the Eye and if we all can play this right we get another chance, we _all_ do. Of course that’s worth i— Stop.

**ARCHIVIST**

You can _leave_, Martin.

**MARTIN**

And if I thought for a second that you weren’t still about to try and destroy yourself again as soon as you s— Fine. You know what? Fine.

[ANTAGONISTIC DISTORTION BEGINS, BUT DOESN’T GET THE OPPORTUNITY TO REACH A CRESCENDO]

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

**ARCHIVIST**

[Shell-shocked] Decades. Decades. I… I can’t… I can’t _do_ this for that long, I can’t— What, so longer than both of us have been ali—

And he just—

I feel like, like I’m dying when I think about it, except I don’t, I just— _stay_ here, a-and when I’m not paying attention it’s almost fine and then I do and—

[BREATHING DEEPLY]

I can’t do this. I _can’t_ do this. There—there must be some way to get that across to him. I just need to know what it is. I need…

No. I need to think.

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

**ARCHIVIST**

[Slowly, deliberate] This is… not the first time it has occurred to me that I… don’t really… _miss_ anyone, per se. Not any more. Except maybe—

But in the general sense. The way one would tend to _associate_ with this… predicament. In a statement.

I don’t, I don’t want comfort, I don’t want human contact, not in any way just getting out of _here_ could ever offer me, but if I’m not already so cold that ever moving again seems impossible then as soon as I let myself _think_ about it I feel like I could t-tear my own skin off for _how_ much I need to leave, I _need—_

[AUDIBLY WORKING TO CALM HIMSELF]

I can do this. I can…

I’m not going to die. Everything else is… negotiable enough. It has to be.

[CLICK]

* * *

[SOUND OF PAPERS SHUFFLING]

**ARCHIVIST**

[Obviously has been ruminating] But still— I— That could easily be, I, I don’t know, twice my— spending as long as I’ve been alive, like this, just— waiting? Without…

I suppose if anything would let me finish putting all this in order… But no. That’s not… That’s a _waste_. So what am I missing?

[CLICK]

* * *

**ARCHIVIST**

I keep coming back to— I mean— I should be upset. I should be furious. And—and afraid, honestly?

But it just feels like I did those already. And now I have… more of an empty space than anything else, where that sort of feeling would be. Like… like patience, almost. Or… mild exasperation, is what I can manage. Something I think could _be_ patience if I weren’t still hungry.

I would… _really_ prefer to be done with that the same way, too. But I suppose that’s not how things work.

It does feel… much the same as I did when he first _brought_ me here, is the odd part. Even now. Harder to ignore, but that’s a factor of monotony more than anything else, I think. I feel… helpless, and stagnant, but I don’t actually think I’m about to die. Not like I did before. I am… coming to the conclusion that I could survive this.

But I can’t _live_ like this. There’s a difference. I can’t live like this, and I… don’t… actually think I should… have to? Not even for their plan to… Christ, we’d be terrible allies if just me— just me _(ugh)_ feeding were a conflict of interest. Doesn’t exactly bode well for remaking the world.

And that’s all I _want_, that’s what has me wanting to—to fight and scream and bolt, though in ways that feel like metaphor, really, I’m hardly effective otherwise. But I’m not— that’s what I want to escape _to_. I don’t… want… people, I don’t… _miss_ having friends, not really, it’s n-not like I had any kind of decent track record there when I, when I _was_ human enough to try it. I don’t think I’m looking for anything Forsaken would… actually profit from taking away. Not… God, not that I’ll ever have, anyway. I just _need—_

[HIS VOICE CUTS OUT]

[CONSIDERING PAUSE]

I need a story, something _new_, something— alive. That isn’t ours yet, something I can take for myself, I…

The thing is that I, I think I could _do_ this, maybe, or, or try, if I were just— on—on a longer leash. [Briefly derailed] So to speak. But…

[FRUSTRATED SOUND]

It’s been too long since I— since I had a, an actual victim.

[SILENCE]

[HE EXHALES IN WHAT MAY BE RELIEF AT HAVING ARTICULATED IT]

[Soft, plaintive] I _want…_

[A SIGNIFICANTLY MORE RESIGNED SIGH]

If I’d told Martin that last summer, he would have been… [Slight predatory edge] _horrified_. But we’re both past that now, I’m sure…

I’m not sure he knows that, though.

[PAUSE AS THE ARCHIVIST CONSIDERS WHAT HE JUST SAID]

Oh.

Well, fuck.

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

**ARCHIVIST**

It’s been… quite some time, I think. I can’t… know. I could try to actually [Frustrated] _Know,_ but that comes with a price tag I still can’t afford. Not now.

[Determined] Not _yet_, anyway.

I wonder if he’s trying to give me space, or i-if… I suppose he would never actually _think_ of it as hurting me, would he. Any more than he’d thought of it like that as he left me here before.

Who knows. Maybe he just ran for his own sake.

I should… appreciate the time to think. Martin’s not the only one here who’d like to stop barreling into difficult conversations unprepared.

It’s just that there’s— _so_ many variables I hadn’t been… I don’t understand enough about what’s going on with him. Which keeps… keeps happening, I suppose.

[PAUSE]

[Brusque] And I just want to see him again, obviously. But I’d expect Martin knows that much.

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

[QUIET, HIGH, ALMOST APOLOGETIC-SEEMING STATIC]

[TAPE ROLLING]

**MARTIN**

[Softly] I’m sorry.

[TAPE CONTINUES ROLLING]

**ARCHIVIST**

…I’m aware of that, Martin.

**MARTIN**

Okay.

[QUIET DISTORTION ON THE RECORDING REMAINS AUDIBLE]

**MARTIN**

…Right. I’ll— um— [Looking for a graceful retreat] I—

**ARCHIVIST**

Martin?

**MARTIN**

[Startled] Yeah?

**ARCHIVIST**

I’ll… See you soon, I expect.

**MARTIN**

Oh! O-okay. Of course.

**ARCHIVIST**

[As if to himself, or the tape] Good.  
  
[STATIC STOPS]

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

**ARCHIVIST**

So what are you, these days?

**MARTIN**

That’s— that’s a bit rude, isn’t it?

**ARCHIVIST**

[Unapologetic] I suppose so.

[TAPE ROLLING]

But I’m not the only one you’ve done this to.

**MARTIN**

Done wh—

**ARCHIVIST**

Sent… here. Given to the Lonely. Am I.

[A FURTHER PAUSE]

**MARTIN**

…No.

It’s… it’s different, though. The others were… strangers. Human, I mean. Just…

**ARCHIVIST**

What happens to them?

**MARTIN**

I don’t know.

**ARCHIVIST**

Do you care?

**MARTIN**

[Even more awkward than usual] Not… really, no.

**ARCHIVIST**

Hm.

Sounds very different from the man who orchestrated an intervention over a few people’s bad dreams.

**MARTIN**

[Defensive] You thanked me for that. I—I didn’t—I didn’t expect anyone to try to hurt you, that’s never— and anyway, it’s _different_ with you, Jon, you have… options. Here. I get the one way f—

**ARCHIVIST**

[Interrupting, but without intentional compulsion; audibly curious] Do you like it?

**MARTIN**

I…

I don’t really think of it as something to like or dislike, honestly? It’s… necessary, so that puts everything else kind of beside the point.

[THE ARCHIVIST DOESN’T RESPOND]

**MARTIN**

It feels more like a wakeup call than actually _changing_ anything, really. More in common than not with how their lives worked anyway. They just hate to admit it.

**ARCHIVIST**

[Somewhat acerbic] I feel fairly aware of the difference.

**MARTIN**

…Yeah, well.

**ARCHIVIST**

I… don’t suppose you’d tell me about one of them.

**MARTIN**

Jon, _no._ I can’t give you a statement. About anything. Are we going to have this conversation every time I see you?

**ARCHIVIST**

[Inaudible change of subject]

**MARTIN**

What?

**ARCHIVIST**

[Awkward, vulnerable] I said…

[HE SIGHS]

It’s cold here, all the time, and no matter what I read I’m still hungry. It doesn’t get _worse_, but it’s not getting any better. If you’re not going to… tell me anything I can use, will…

[Somehow the awkwardness intensifies] Would you at least touch me?

**MARTIN**

[With a lot of confusion] Er… Oh! Um. You’ve never really struck me as the hugging type?

**ARCHIVIST**

I’m not.

**MARTIN**

…Right. I mean. I’d like t— I think that would be… fine?

**ARCHIVIST**

It’s… it’s stupid. I shouldn’t—

**MARTIN**

No, I. I think I get it. Really. So. Just… whatever you want.

**ARCHIVIST**

In that respect only—

**MARTIN**

[Brief affectionate frustration] _Yes_, Jon.

[AWKWARD PAUSE, THEN PHYSICAL REARRANGEMENT SOUNDS]

[CLOTH BRUSHING AGAINST OTHER SURFACES]

[ABRUPT SHUDDERING TOUCH-STARVED GASP FROM THE ARCHIVIST]

**MARTIN**

[Startled, alarmed] Christ, you’re— Jon, you’re freezing.

**ARCHIVIST**

[Arch, but also very unsteady] Well, yes. I still… How are you this _warm?_

**MARTIN**

I mean, I belong here, so. So It doesn’t need… I mean, I think that helps.

I’m sorry.

**ARCHIVIST**

Not sorry enough to let me go.

**MARTIN**

Not _yet_. Not now. But if, if there is something I can…

**ARCHIVIST**

…[Quiet] Stay.

**MARTIN**

I— O-okay. Yeah. I can… I can do that. I’ve got time.

[BREATHING, EVENED OUT]

[CLICK]

* * *

**ARCHIVIST**

I have at this point undone a truly staggering amount of the damage Gertrude did here—er—from an organizational perspective, I mean. Which is still to say… not all that much, proportionately. But it’s amazing what time to work without credible risk of one’s death will do. And there is… something to be said for…

This work, unlike just about anything else, I want to do now, and I wanted to do years ago, and it’s much the same thing now as it was then. My understanding has obviously improved but what’s needed from me here, at least, doesn’t change. The continuity is…

I can’t regret what I’ve done. I’m not sure I could be both capable of it and alive. But that kind of continuity of purpose has been noticeably rare in my life, these last few years.

[TAPE WHIRRS SOFTLY]

[Quiet, aside] I suppose I can’t exactly go tell Georgie that…

Well. That hasn’t mattered for some time now.

[CLICK]

* * *

**ARCHIVIST**

They… He did find Basira. Or rather she… decidedly found him.

[LONG PAUSE]

I know what happened, now. And I’m— I don’t think I should be appreciative, or, or want to have been there when— I should be appalled. I should be sad and horrified that it, that it came to this.

I am… I’m sort of impressed.

* * *

[CLICK]

**ARCHIVIST**

Martin, you still— you have to— make sacrifices, take victims, whatever you’d rather call it. Yes?

**MARTIN**

Yeah. I do. [Confused, but quick] Jon, what—

**ARCHIVIST**

And it wouldn’t be enough for you to feed on just knowing who you’d already caught and, I, I don’t know, general ambient human feeling…? That wouldn’t be survivable?

**MARTIN**

[Slight distress at the thought] No. Not—not really and not anymore, at least. Maybe before, but I don’t know if there’s a time when I’d have been able to understand that around me _without_ ultimately needing mo—

Please stop doing that. [Plaintive edge] Jon, we’ve _talked_ about this.

**ARCHIVIST**

I—I know, but I, I needed to… What you just said. When I say I can’t just read and wait, it’s, think of it like that. I won’t ask you questions—

[Pausing] Not large ones, at any rate. I _can_ do that, but I need to talk to _someone_. I need more. I need— Gertrude could’ve gotten by with this much, I imagine, but she also _died._ I can’t.

**MARTIN**

I was starting to wonder if that would be it? But I needed to… give it time. And I guess I underestimated just how much…

**ARCHIVIST**

Please.

**MARTIN**

I’ll see what I can do.

[THE ARCHIVIST’S BREATH ALL GOES OUT OF HIM AT ONCE]

**ARCHIVIST**

[Hoarse, quiet] Thank you.

**MARTIN**

[Echo of still remembering how heartbreak works] Oh, Jon.

Hey. Come here.

[SOUNDS OF MOVEMENT]

[CLOTHING RUSTLES]

[DEEP, SHUDDERING INHALE]

[CLICK]

* * *

[CLICK]

[LOW BACKGROUND DISTORTION]

**UNIDENTIFIED VOICE**

—llo? Is— I thought I heard— Hello? Someone?

[Quiet, aside] Please?

[FOOTSTEPS NEARING RECORDER]

Hello?

[STARTLED SOUND]

Oh! Oh, thank goodness, another human being.

[THE ARCHIVIST LAUGHS]

**UNIDENTIFIED VOICE**

[Overlapping] I swear, I… That sad-looking kid just… I don’t know, it feels like I haven’t seen anyone in _days—_

**ARCHIVIST**

Here. It’s all right.

[STATIC RISING STEADILY]

Look— why don’t you tell me from the beginning?

**UNIDENTIFIED VOICE**

I… I don’t… I don’t think I…

**ARCHIVIST**

Whenever you’re ready.

**Author's Note:**

> I honest-to-goodness set out to play this as coldly as the original prompt; instead, I ended up... here. In effect I couldn't get the balance of relative humanity to shake out quite that cruelly, despite being extremely interested in such content. Part of that's the way I habitually handle the Lonely itself ([cfr.](https://rusty-kink.dreamwidth.org/1380.html?thread=150116#cmt150116)) as well as monsters in general; another part may just be that I am, in my own relative way, soft and gay at heart. 
> 
> Which is to say that this is very much my idea of a rocky and circuitous path to a happier ending, or at least one where Jon and Martin are both each as okay as they're going to get, as monsters, long-term, given the prompt in question. I would be extremely interested to know whether it is yours, or anything else you're willing to comment!


End file.
